


pastels

by brandywine421



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Families of Choice, Fluff, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 17:33:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21040058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandywine421/pseuds/brandywine421
Summary: "I'm cooking dinner on Thursday."Foggy looked up from his laptop a few moments later after the words had time to trickle through hours of health inspection paperwork. "This Thursday?""Every Thursday," Matt said, fingers sliding over the pages in his binder without missing a beat.He considered the invitation with mixed feelings. A one-off invitation he could understand, but a standing, regular, routine of a shared meal seemed - curious. "Is that new?"*Future fic post-Netflix series.  Hopefully warm and fuzzy for cool nights.  WIP.





	pastels

**Author's Note:**

> I took some days off and immersed myself in other fandoms. Was totes inspired by this word/prompt somewhere else and wondered - how could Matt find such a concept?

> Eudaimonia (n.): lit. "human flourishing"; a contented state of being happy, healthy, and prosperous.

"I'm cooking dinner on Thursday."

Foggy looked up from his laptop a few moments later after the words had time to trickle through hours of health inspection paperwork. "This Thursday?"

"Every Thursday," Matt said, fingers sliding over the pages in his binder without missing a beat.

He considered the invitation with mixed feelings. A one-off invitation he could understand, but a standing, regular, routine of a shared meal seemed - curious. "Is that new?"

Three years ago, Daredevil decided not to kill Wilson Fisk and Foggy decided not to give up on Matt Murdock. Two years ago, they opened an office in a building with working heat and AC and paid Karen's tuition to get a real degree. Sure, Matt still turned up a few days a months with open wounds and closed lips, but they were solid in their friendship and their firm.

"Not really," Matt answered and Foggy saw his fingers hesitate. Huh. "Sister Maggie and I tried it out. Weekly meals."

"Oh." Sister Maggie wasn't a sore spot, but she definitely wasn't a safe spot either. Foggy knew that getting Matt to let go of his rage in healthy ways was a goal but forgiving the woman that ignored him for thirty odd years while he self-destructed in all kinds of ways - well Foggy wished he'd hold onto that a little longer.

If he kept her compartmentalized with Matt's Catholicism then he could pretend like it was none of his business and be supportive from afar. If he moved her into the 'best friend's mom' column then he would actually have to interact.

"Is it a thing?" Matt asked and Foggy remembered he was having a conversation. "Because it shouldn't be. It's just a meal, Karen's been over."

"No, why would it be a thing?" Foggy scoffed but he figured Matt would sense the rush of heat to his cheeks.

Karen's heels clicked to announce her arrival, or her eavesdropping since the door was still open. "Jessica's friend calls it 'Self-Care Night', but there's nothing hokey about having dinner with family on a regular basis."

"So it is family-oriented," Foggy sighed.

"I warned you he might make a thing out of it," Matt accused Karen.

"Wait, Jessica's been over? With a friend?" Foggy felt out of place in the conversation suddenly.

Karen let out a tired sound and laid her hands on Foggy's shoulders. "Make up your mind before you start a fight about it. It's not Matt's fault you don't like his Mom."

Matt took off his glasses and Foggy knew he'd crossed a line he shouldn't have when he pinched that spot between his eyebrows. "I make dinner on Thursday so I can have a meal cooked just the way I like. I share it with people that know all my secrets so I can relax and not get judged."

"Oh," Foggy repeated. Shit. He fucked up.

"You're my work wife so you see me all the time as it is, but it didn't feel right not to invite you once it turned into a - routine event," Matt said, primly. Karen huffed. "You're stuck as my work mistress, Karen, until you start going to court for me. We've discussed this."

"Thanks for telling me. I'll check with Marci and make sure she hasn't scheduled us for something else," Foggy said before he accepted the full subject change. He needed a chance to fix his accidental insult.

"It's not a thing. If you make it into a thing then it won't be relaxing anymore," Matt frowned. He pushed a hand through his hair and replaced his glasses in the same motion.

"Right. I'll just - keep it in mind if we start growing apart as work spouses," Foggy said.

"That's all I ask," Matt replied with a nod.

"I promise it's not a thing," Foggy reiterated.

Karen rolled her eyes at him and Foggy flipped her off. Matt marked his page and started packing up for the night. As long as he didn't ask for a work divorce, he'd make it up to him tomorrow. Or even better, on Thursday.

* * *

"Brought wine, red and white since you didn't tell me what you found in the fridge for tonight," Jessica said, storming into the apartment like she was unexpected and not always invited. She stopped at the edge of the kitchen island when she saw the anomaly curled around Sister Maggie's feet.

"That's convenient since Claire brought whiskey," Matt called from the back.

She nodded her chin at the dog, the fluffy gray shepherd and Sister Maggie ignored her until she took off her shoes and placed them by the door with the rest. "Claire's the proud parent - " the nun started but Claire bellowed an objection from the back that made the dog perk up in attention.

"My family said the only way they'd let me move back to the city unchaperoned was if I took the dog," Claire explained. The dog wagged its tail excitedly.

"I hear it's helpful for single ladies looking for husbands, or wives," Sister Maggie said, petting the beast.

Claire and Jessica both blinked at her in alarm.

"I'm just saying," she murmured with that devil smirk that didn't come from the Murdock half.

Matt wandered out in sweatpants and mismatched socks looking less battered than last time she'd made it on the right night. He looked _healthy_ and she didn't know if she'd ever get used to it.

Well, she was a little used to it since she was a regular at his weekly meals. At first she thought it was a sad little way to maintain contact with people he owed favors but after she'd attended one, it turned into the highlight of her work-week.

She missed Trish with a steady ache but she had one night a week that she could leave all her guilt and shame and fear outside and spend time with people that knew her sins and didn't care as long as she was on time for hot food.

"We're having tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches," Matt announced, pecking her cheek, pointing at the dog in silent warning before ambling into his small kitchen.

She wasn't disappointed, but it didn't sound like his usual organic and fancy menu.

"It's Jack's birthday so he's making his favorite meal. We shouldn't talk about it unless he brings it up," Sister Maggie said in a purposeful stage whisper. She didn't give any emotion away on her face but she didn't have her son's shades to hide her eyes behind.

"Noted," Claire nodded. "Matt, do you need help?"

"Everyone can serve their own drinks and the TV should still be hooked up from last week," Matt called.

Sister Maggie moved to the small TV setup. "I need to screen that new Mr. Goose the Destroyer movie, the children have been asking for us to show it at movie night but Sister Gertrude is triggered by waterfowl."

Jessica left that discussion for later - and she would be returning to it later - to get herself a drink. She leaned over Matt's shoulder when he raised the lid of a pot bubbling with red soup.

"You're lurking, shoo," Matt said.

"Do you need to talk about it?" Jess asked under her breath.

"No, it's Thursday before it's anything else. I can grieve for him any time, any day, every day," Matt replied, shifting to the balls of his feet to inhale the steam before recovering the pot.

She knew how that worked.

"I'm not making it because of Dad. I chased down this roller-blader a few days ago and fell in a fountain. It was cold as shit," Matt whispered. "So I want something warm and not complicated like skating pickpockets."

* * *


End file.
